Chapter Seventeen
Once all the tents had been packed and loaded onto the wagons, Roisin put Ecne in his basket and placed it on the wagon Darragh had commandeered from her the day she’d arrived.
Her sweet lad wasn’t happy about it, but it was a better way to travel than balancing the basket on her lap for hours.
Besides, she rode right behind him so he could keep an eye on her and not fret that she’d abandoned him. As if she ever would.
As they wound their way along the riverbank, the clouds grew darker and the breeze fresher. She shivered and tugged her shawl more tightly about her shoulders and hoped it wasn’t about to rain. Still, they’d had almost a week without rain, so one couldn’t grumble.
It wasn’t long before Hugh ended up beside her and she smiled at him before nodding at Grear, who eagerly rode on ahead to accompany one of the older lasses she’d befriended a few days ago.
After a few minutes of light banter, Hugh glanced around to make sure they weren’t overheard, before he drew closer to her.
“There’s a town half a day’s ride away that Darragh wants to visit.
” His voice was low, and she stared straight ahead, in the hope that would give anyone casting a stray glance their way the impression that their conversation was inconsequential.
“I’ll find a way to join him. ’Tis possible there may be a message there for us. ”
Her fingers tightened on her reins as hope surged that soon she and Hugh might return to their former lives. “That would be good news, indeed.”
“Aye.” He sounded resigned by the prospect, and she disregarded whatever propriety she still retained and reached across the space between them and gently clasped his hand.
“Good news for us both,” she clarified. Why wouldn’t he share the reason he had been banished?
Several times over the last few days she’d tried to encourage him to confide, but he always changed the subject.
His stubbornness refused to daunt her. If all else failed, she would ensure Freyja made certain Alasdair spoke to the earl on Hugh’s behalf. “Ye’ll see.”
*
They had been riding for several hours and were traveling through a glen with towering limestone cliffs dotted with caves when the sky darkened and drizzle filled the air. Roisin pulled her shawl over her head, not that it would do a lot of good at keeping her dry if the rain became heavier.
Thunder rumbled and without further warning the heavens opened.
The rain pummeled onto the ground and mist rose around them, making it hard to see Ecne in the wagon in front of them, never mind the path they were meant to be taking.
Hugh grasped her wrist as she clutched the reins and disembodied voices filtered through the hammering downpour.
“Take refuge in the caves.”
Hugh veered a sharp right, guiding her horse along with his own, and her protest was lost in the biting wind that whipped through the glen. She twisted on her saddle and, through the pelting rain, just caught sight of the wagon with her darling lad vanish into a cave up ahead.
“We’ll need to dismount.” Hugh raised his voice above the cacophony, and she peered at the low entrance to the cave he had led her to.
In the shadows cast by the lowering clouds, it looked like a dark, gaping mouth ready to devour unwary travelers and she hastily pushed the fanciful notion to the back of her mind.
She dismounted quickly, and they led their horses into the cave. The entrance was so low she had to bow her head but once inside, the roof was high enough for the horses to stand without any problem.
As she squeezed water from her shawl, she couldn’t help voicing her concerns. “I hope they don’t leave poor Ecne in his basket. He’ll be frantic, thinking I’ve left him.”
“Grear took shelter in that cave, Roisin. She’ll be with him. Do not fret.”
She released a relieved breath, silently childing herself for not noticing that herself. Ecne would be comforted by Grear’s presence, and after all, it was only until this fierce summer storm passed.
Hugh grabbed the rolled-up blanket from her saddle and dropped its leather covering to the ground before handing the blanket to her. “Here. This will help ye dry off.”
Gratefully, she wrapped the blanket around herself. “What about ye?”
“Don’t worry about me.” He appeared to be searching for something on the cave floor, and after a few moments, she realized what he was doing.
He had pulled a tinderbox from one of his pouches and was searching for kindling.
She crouched and picked up whatever dry twigs and old leaves she could find, and he focused on catching a spark and building a small fire.
“It’s not much.” He eyed his handiwork before glancing at her. “But maybe it’s enough for ye to dry yerself, along with the blanket.”
The doubt in his voice was palpable. Since she was drenched to the bone, it was unlikely this wee fire would do much to keep the chill at bay, but his thoughtfulness touched her.
“’Tis more than enough.” To prove her point, she kneeled next to him on the stony ground and warmed her hands on the small flames.
The fresh scent of rain and worn leather swirled around her, driving back the mustiness of the cave, and the mist that billowed beyond its narrow mouth gave an otherworldly visage, as though they had fallen through a crack in the world into the land of the fae.
She shook her head at her outlandish thoughts, but she couldn’t help smiling. He caught her, and grinned, and her heart leaped in her breast, the way it always did when he looked at her so.
“What’s so amusing?” He tenderly stroked a wet curl from her cheek and his finger lingered, a warm counterpoint against her chilled skin.
“This.” Her voice was husky, but she didn’t mind if he knew how he affected her. How could he not know? She’d proven that beyond all doubt in his tent just a few days ago.
The memory scorched her senses, and a fierce longing to feel him hold her once again burned through her. Tenderly, she cradled his jaw, and his sharp intake of breath sent sparks of pleasure dancing through her blood.
“Ye find this amusing?” His finger traced along her cheek, leaving ribbons of fire in his wake. “’Tis pure torture for me.”
“Are ye certain?” She leaned closer and brushed a kiss upon his lips. He tasted of raindrops and of unspoken promises, and smoky need coiled tight between her thighs. “Is this torture, Hugh?”
“It is when this is all we can have.” He gripped her shoulders, his hot gaze scorching her. “Do not test me, Roisin. A man can only take so much.”
“I’m not testing ye.”
“Ye do not understand.”
“Why wouldn’t I? Are ye going to say something insulting now, Hugh?”
He gave a reluctant grin. “I wouldn’t dare and that’s the truth.
But ye don’t know—” He clamped his jaw and briefly screwed his eyes shut before stealing whatever shred of decorum she retained with the intensity of his fierce gaze.
“Ye don’t know how I burn for ye, every hour of every day.
How I dream of ye at night and wish there was a way to make ye mine forever.
Ye’ve stolen my good sense and my heart, but nothing can come of it. And it’s tearing me apart.”
His tortured words spun through her mind and sank deep into her heart, a spellbinding confession the likes of which she had never quite dared to dream. How could he believe there was no future for them, when they were so in accord with the certainty that they belonged together?
“I do know,” she whispered. “For I feel the same. How could I not? Ye’re my soulmate, Hugh Campbell, and there is nothing ye can do about it.”
He cradled her face and even with the thundering backdrop of the rain against the cliffs, the sound of his harsh breath filled the cave with spine-tingling promise.
“I’ve nothing to offer ye.” Raw agony filled his voice, and she clutched desperately at his wet shirt in case he had the mad idea of pulling away from her. “I cannot risk ruining ye, mo ghràdh, when I can’t give ye what ye deserve.”
She knew what he meant. He wouldn’t risk giving her a bairn, when he couldn’t offer her marriage. Stubborn man. To be sure, he couldn’t know there wasn’t a risk of her falling pregnant this day, but why did he need to be so adamant that they were destined to always be apart?
It wasn’t something she had ever envisaged saying to a man. Not even to Hugh who, to be fair, was the only man she’d ever wanted anyway. But it seemed it couldn’t be helped. She only hoped he understood without her needing to explain the specifics.
“Ye will not ruin me.” Her voice was scarcely even a whisper and even though she trusted Hugh with her life, she found she couldn’t hold his gaze and instead focused on his mesmerizing chest. “My moon time is due within the next day or two.”
Lord, her face was burning. She should have kept quiet. But if she didn’t explain things to him, his honor would never allow him to take what she so wished to give him.
The silence hurt her ears but just as she couldn’t bear it any longer, he slid his finger beneath her chin and raised her face so once again their gazes locked.
“Moon time?” His voice was hushed and mortification twisted through her. Did she truly need to enlighten him? She wasn’t certain she was up for the task.
But she had to try. She dragged in a ragged breath and gathered her courage. “I won’t conceive yer bairn, Hugh.”
Comprehension slowly dawned in his eyes. “Are ye sure this is what ye want, Roisin?”
“I am. I’ve only ever wanted ye, from the first moment I saw ye in Sgur Castle.”
He cradled her face, his thumbs stroking her cheeks and her breath stalled in her throat. “In a cave?” His voice was rough with desire and shivers of need coursed through her. “’Tis not how I imagined taking ye, Roisin.”
“Then it will be something different to remember.”
His laugh sounded tortured. “As if I’d ever forget this.”
She wound her arms around his neck and the blanket fell to the ground. Her wet clothes clung to her, and she longed to be free of them but even now, alone here with Hugh, she wasn’t certain she had the nerve to simply strip in front of him.
He claimed her mouth, and she dug her fingers into his hair, holding him close. His tongue teased her unmercifully as his fingers loosened the ties on her bodice, his touch sending hot spikes of need between her thighs.
With a frustrated groan, she tore blindly at her clothes and felt him smile against her lips.
“’Tis not funny.” Her words were slurred, and he kissed her again, as though he wished only for her to lose her mind.
“Wait.” His whisper burned her flesh, before he hastily spread the blanket on the ground. She wriggled out of her wet things until she stood before him clad only in her chemise, and he sucked in a harsh breath as his gaze roamed over her. “Ye’re more beautiful than any of my dreams of ye.”
Heat suffused her, warming her from the inside out. Even her damp chemise seemed to burn her skin. “And so are ye.”
Tenderly, he lay her on the blanket before unwinding his plaid and throwing it over them both, enclosing them in a warm, dry cocoon, and she gasped her delight. “’Tis like we have slipped into a forgotten corner of the world of the fae.”
“Ye’re the only fae I need.” Hugh loomed over her, his plaid draped over his head and shoulders and pooling on the ground around them.
He nibbled kisses along her face and neck, and his fingers delved beneath her chemise, easing the material up as he caressed her hips and waist. She shuddered, gripping his shoulders as pleasure spun through her.
He inexorably inched higher until he cupped her tender breasts.
Roisin breathed shakily as Hugh lowered his head and teased her nipple with his tongue. His warm breath dusted her sensitized flesh and then he sucked her aching peak into his mouth, and she pressed her knuckles against her lips to stifle her groan of need.
He wrapped his hand around her wrist and pushed her arm to the ground. “Don’t.” His voice was hoarse as he lifted his head just enough so he could gaze into her eyes. “I want to hear ye, Roisin. Don’t hold back.”
She rasped. When he resumed his torturous teasing, she couldn’t have kept silent even if she’d wanted to.
“That’s it.” His harsh encouragement as he moved down her body was as potent as an aphrodisiac from the mythical gods themselves. She shifted restlessly beneath his exquisite ministrations until his hot breath dusted her mound, and she froze.
“Hugh,” she breathed. In answer, he kissed her, stroking her wet slit with the tip of his tongue and teasing her clit until her last shred of reason fled.
Her heart hammered and she could scarcely breathe as he cupped her breasts and played with her nipples, while his mouth and tongue created sweet havoc within her slick sheath. She squirmed mindlessly, and he dragged one hand from her breast and gripped her bottom in his large, calloused hand.
It was too much. Starlight exploded behind her eyes. She bucked helplessly, scarcely aware of how he roughly kneed her legs apart until she felt an unyielding pressure against her sensitive flesh.
She gasped as he pushed inside her, and he stilled, his erratic breath harsh in this magical, twilight world. “Roisin?”
“’Tis fine,” she panted, digging her nails into his shoulders and distractedly wishing he’d taken his shirt off so she could admire his naked chest. “I think.”
In answer, he glided his hands over her thighs and calves before pulling her legs around him in a decadent embrace. She groaned and her eyes fluttered shut but the brief sensation of discomfort melted as Hugh slowly withdrew, before pushing deep inside her once again.
“My Roisin.” His tortured whisper filled their makeshift world, thrilling her to her soul. He filled her so completely she was afraid to move, until he grasped her hips, moving her in time with his ever-increasing thrusts.
Shudders rippled through her, and she forgot about everything but this moment, this man. My Hugh. And when his teeth grazed her shoulder, she lost the last remnants of restraint and convulsed around him, and his muffled roar of release was the sweetest sound she had ever heard.